


Look Homeward Angel

by Oshun



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/pseuds/Oshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domesticity with Elrond, Elros, Maglor and Maedhros. Response to a challenge to write a story or poem, or create a piece of art on the theme of leaving or returning home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look Homeward Angel

“If you could return to somewhere you had lived before, where would you go?” Elrond asked. “I realize that one can never really return to the past, because every experience changes us, and so we are not the people we once were and, therefore . . .”

Maglor tossed aside the book he had been trying to read and grabbed his lap harp, exhaling explosively. “Ai, Elrond. Don’t try so hard to be pretentious. You give me a headache.”

Elros snickered, elbowing Elrond. ‘Cheeky little wanker,’ Elrond thought, scowling at his brother with what he knew would be short-lived irritation. Still he could not resist laughing at himself just a little. Maglor had nailed him again. He was trying to impress and engage Maedhros. If Maedhros ever snapped at him the way that Maglor did it would crush him. But he had no doubts about his place in Maglor’s affection, while Maedhros was another case entirely.

“Hmm,” said Maedhros, his voice mild and slightly sleepy, his handsome features even more appealing than usual in his relaxed state. He crossed and uncrossed his long, elegant legs and stretched his upper body, before reaching for the quarter-full glass of red wine on the table at his elbow and draining it. “Can I choose to live somewhere that I had hoped to live, but never had the opportunity?”

“Sure!” Elrond said, delighted that Maedhros was willing to play the game. “Your choice entirely.”

“Good. In Tirion, not far from Macalaurë and Vingarië’s house that Findekáno and I shared with them, there was a townhouse,” Maedhros said.

Maglor dropped his mouth open and rolled his eyes in mock horror.

Only the slightest amused quirking of Maedhros’s lips showed that he took any notice of Maglor’s posturing. “We always thought we would buy our own house when they got around to thinking about having children, if we didn’t find something we loved sooner.”

Maglor loudly struck a dissonant chord on his harp and Maedhros grinned and chuckled softly.

“This place was lovely,” Maedhros continued. “It had stunning views looking down the hill into the lower levels of the city from both the parlor and the master bedroom. A spacious, simple dining-room opened onto a balcony with a beautiful vista of a wooded portion of the hills climbing upward, showing a perfect triangle of sky. It was close enough to the center to walk almost anywhere. But it had the clean air and the peacefulness of the outskirts of Tirion, without the isolation and inconvenience.”

“I cannot believe after everything that has happened that you can still bring up that you missed the opportunity to sign a contract for that damned house!” Maglor said. Everyone else laughed in response to his exaggerated expression of aggravation.

“Ai, boys, what Macalaurë wants me to admit, is that I didn’t fall in love with the house, until it was already clear that we had no future there. None of us were entirely blinded to the fact that we were headed straight for the rocks, all sails spread, and the wind at our backs, with no one who had the appetite or authority to change our course. And here we are now, sadder for sure and wiser, but still tied to our fate.” Maedhros reached out and tousled Elrond’s hair. “I hope you have a happier life. But if you find a house that you love, take it, even if only for a short time.”


End file.
